


This Is What We Call Irony

by TheKnightsWhoSayBook



Category: The Song of the Lioness - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/M, Poetry, Unrequited Love, Weird vague poem, not sure if this makes any sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:58:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6173770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKnightsWhoSayBook/pseuds/TheKnightsWhoSayBook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically a weird vague poetry adaptation of that other really short vague fic with George thinking about Alanna as a thief</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is What We Call Irony

And here is what we call irony,

George thinks,

and it knifes him through the ribs and twists

in a way that is familiar, all too familiar, because he knows that slide of steel through blood

he's lived it, in that brutal moment, in its moment and its aftermath--

that is how you become king, after all, a dagger

through

the heart.

But we are not speaking of that moment or its aftermath, no, we never speak of that,

and as he looks at her he thinks,

no, we never speak of that again

because sometimes he would do anything not to be who he is what he is why he is king--

no. We are not speaking of that because we are speaking of irony

and in this moment, this moment that is dangerous to no one but himself,

it is her smile that cuts like a blade, the red is her hair and there is no blood but his own, rushing and pumping through his heart, his veins, pressing dangerously against his skin, too close and too dangerous, but only to him. Because he loves her, and that is the irony.

But is that enough? No, we know that is not enough.

Because for the god of thieves that is never enough.

Here is what is enough:

that Alanna is a thief in all ways but name, and that George is the king of what she is but is not, and the ruler of those who are what he is and the scorned of those who are what she is, and she could be his, she could be his court his own his people but no, no, no,

she is one of those in a castle on a hill, a thief with noble blood, a thief in every way but the name he needs.

Alanna is a thief and she has already stolen him, his blood, his heart, and this is what we call irony, thinks George,

because they are two thieves meant for each other but missing each other by a mile.


End file.
